He's still the first one out in the morning and the last one in at dark. During the nasty cold weather this past week he would spend 12 hours on the porch, by choice, huddled here out of the wind. I brought him in once but he just turned on his heel and went back out through the cat door. My porch. I'll stay there, thankyouverymuch.
He's profoundly deaf, if you want his attention you need to touch him. He still gets up on the bed before dawn and puts his icy cold paws on my husband's face. I know he's there when I hear the scream. He gets confused, now, sometimes puzzled about whatever he's seeing. Is this out? Oh, well, it looks very nice, I think I'll go there. Maybe not. Well, maybe later. I think I'll have a nap now.
Nineteen years. What a long trip it's been.